


Souvenir

by thekeyholder



Series: Don't Tease [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Leather Jackets, M/M, Mutual Pining, episode 3x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 17:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: How Jim got Oswald's number and what happened after the riot. The real hero of this story is Jim's leather jacket.  [Spoilers for 3x02!!!]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skeleton_twins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleton_twins/gifts).



> Guys, 3 gobblepot fics in a month??? I did not sign up for this! xD I haven't been this productive in 4-5 years!
> 
> skeleton_twins kindly gave me permission to use her [fic idea posted on tumblr](http://stolen-starlord.tumblr.com/post/150936843995/i-suddenly-had-a-thought-and-im-screaming-oswald). Thank you! <3
> 
> Billion thanks to [Nekomata58919](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekomata58919/pseuds/Nekomata58919) for betaing the story.

        If anyone had told Jim that one day he’d need Oswald’s number, he would have laughed right in their face. Yet here he was now, staring at his phone in disbelief. He had to act quickly if he wanted to save Harvey and himself.

 

_5 months earlier_

 

        Jim was waiting at the counter of the Bank of Gotham. He’d gotten back to the city about six weeks prior, but not many knew about it. His trip to the South didn’t go as planned, and he was not in the mood to socialise with anyone. He only made himself get out of bed because his card was declined at the supermarket the day before. A declined card meant that he couldn’t buy booze, which had become as vital as air to him these days.

 

       He massaged his temples to ease his pounding headache. Jim had a bad feeling that his card was declined, because he had gone over his credit limit. Fuck.

The bank clerk left to check something with her superior. Just as Jim was thinking about running away and becoming a shepherd in Nepal, he noticed a familiar figure emerging from the director’s office.

 

        “I can assure you, Mister Cobblepot, that your money is safe with us.”

 

        “It’d better be!”

 

 _Shit_. Jim really didn’t want to meet Oswald now. Not only did he still harbour crippling guilt and inexplicable feelings towards the mobster, but he also looked like a slob. Not surprisingly, Oswald looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of a steampunk magazine: expensive suit, cane, and yet another impressive hairdo. Jim tried to seem busy reading a booklet about retirement plans, but he could feel the precise moment Oswald’s eyes landed on him.

 

        “Jim!” Oswald exclaimed as he limped to the former detective. “I didn’t know you returned to Gotham!”

 

        Jim looked up, pretending to be surprised and annoyed. “Oswald.” Noticing the slight rise of Oswald’s eyebrow, Jim knew he fucked up. He probably shouldn’t have called him by his name. He was sure this ridiculous man was going to assume things.

 

        “I heard you’re not working at the GCPD anymore.”

 

        “Indeed.” Jim hoped that his monosyllabic answers would shorten the conversation.

 

        “So, what have you been up to?”

 

        Jim shrugged. “Not much.” He so wanted to turn around and ignore Oswald, but he just couldn’t. “You?”

 

        Oswald’s eyes lit up. “Trying to get my old life back, you know. I came here to make a deposit with the money I inherited from my father.”

 

        Jim seemed to remember something about Oswald’s father being wealthy, but he died soon after being reunited with his son. He could see the sadness in Oswald’s eyes, even though he tried to hide it. “My condolences.”

 

        “Thank you. Apropos, I have a new phone number.”

 

        A few seconds passed before Jim realised what Oswald wanted. “Oh, uh.” Jim fished for his phone in his pocket. “Here.”

 

        Oswald smiled with satisfaction as he introduced his number. “I rang my number, so I have yours as well.”

 

        “Great.”

 

        Just then, the bank clerk returned. “Mr. Gordon? We managed to identify the problem.”

 

        “Well… I suppose I’ll see you around, Jim.”

 

        Jim nodded tiredly before turning towards the clerk. Only a few minutes later did he realise that he had exchanged numbers with Cobblepot. _What has my life come to_ , he thought to himself, and shook his head. Meanwhile, the clerk was droning on about his credit limit. He was so fucked. He badly needed a job. And a drink.

 

* * * * *

 

        “Jim! You just keep surprising me!”

 

        Even with the mob shouting in the background, Jim could hear the absolute delight in Oswald’s voice, and it made his stomach feel funny.

 

        “Shut up. How’d you like to have Fish all to yourself?”

 

        “Don’t tease!”

 

        Jim rubbed his eyes; he really needed to have a conversation with Oswald after everything was done. This familiarity was doing his head in. He quickly explained his plan to Oswald, and hoped that everything would go well, and that Harvey and he could get out safely. Not much later, one of Mooney’s pals announced that the mob was trying to get in through the front. Mooney and Doctor Strange disappeared through the back, while Jim dragged Harvey to a window in the other room. It would soon get ugly – that was certain.

 

        Harvey breathed out with relief once they were outside, and hugged Jim to himself for several seconds. Barnes joined them soon, and after making sure that they were unharmed, he called back his men from the building. Jim leaned against a wall, and wondered what was happening in the forest. He hoped Oswald would be quick, and then the GCPD and the whole of Gotham had one less problem. Harvey had just started telling Jim about some operations they were planning, when the mob started shouting.

 

        A body in a black bag was brought out from the building and thrown on the bonfire where the other one was already burning. The mob’s shouting soon turned into a chanting of Penguin’s name. Jim looked on with a mix of confusion, horror and a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as Oswald was lifted into the air, and bounced on the shoulder of his underdogs.

 

        Oswald was exuberant; Jim had never seen him like this. The way he was watching Jim, rapturously and invitingly, as if to show him what they could have had together, made Jim’s blood race through his veins. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the images invading his mind. He couldn’t stay, not without making an ass of himself.

 

        “Tell Barnes I went home,” Jim said to Harvey, and walked in the opposite direction.

 

        He was far from his flat, but he decided to clear his head in the cold night. Jim knew he was grossly overestimating the healing powers of chilliness, but he didn’t have many choices in that moment. Sure, when he got home he could wipe out everything with an array of cheap whiskey. He was going through the events of the evening when he suddenly came to a shocking realisation: Oswald had probably spared Fish’s life. If he had killed her, he surely would have bragged about it in front of his new ‘friends’. But hadn’t he preached for months that Fish had to be found and killed to make Gotham safe again? What could have happened there to change Oswald’s mind so drastically?

 

        Fish’s escape also raised the question whether Jim would receive the one million bucks or not. Technically, he did deliver her to Oswald… although, to be fair, Jim didn’t think about the bounty when he made the phone call. He wanted to save Harvey, but also to somehow repay Oswald for… well, a lot of things. Jim hadn’t exactly been kind to him in the past, and perhaps it would be a smart move to sneak into Oswald’s good books again, especially since he was becoming increasingly more powerful.

 

        There was a small park on Jim’s way, and he decided to walk through it to shorten his trip. Unfortunately, it was too late to turn around by the time he noticed someone sitting on one of the benches. A step ahead revealed that he absolutely shouldn’t have set his foot in that park: the person was none other than Oswald Cobblepot. Jim rolled his eyes as Oswald noticed him, and broke out in a glorious smile.

 

        “What are you doing here?!” Jim exclaimed and looked around for Butch, but the park was deserted except for them.

 

        “I needed some time to think in a quiet place.”

 

        Conspicuously, Oswald was only in his shirt and waistcoat, and his cane was also missing.

 

        “What happened to your coat?” Jim asked, secretly pinching himself to check that this was real.

 

        “Oh, well, the crowd got a bit too enthusiastic… they ripped off the left sleeve, so I just took it off,” Oswald admitted with a smile, and rubbed his arms.

 

        It was a rather cold night.

 

        “May I… walk with you? Or would you prefer to be alone?” Oswald asked quietly.

 

 _Yes, I want to go home alone_ , Jim said in his mind, but outwardly, he just sighed and shook his head. He might get answers for some of his questions.

 

        Oswald got up, and they continued their way through the dimly lit park slowly. Jim secretly observed Oswald from the corner of his eye, making sure that his pace wasn’t too fast. Although both felt the need to do so, in the end, it was Oswald who broke the silence.

 

        “I must admit, Jim, that this evening has completely exceeded my expectations.”

 

        “Why didn’t you kill Fish?”

 

        “Ah, you’re still a diplomat as ever. I should have known you would figure that out. After all, you were the GCPD’s finest detective. Let’s just say that she got a second chance.”

 

        “You know she’ll return, right?” Jim asked, watching as Oswald’s gloved hands were rubbing his upper arms.

 

        “Of course, she will. In tow with an army thrown together. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.”

 

        “But then…”

 

        “Why did I spare her if I knew this? I was reminded that I owed her. Letting her go made it even.”

 

        “I wasn’t aware you’re now playing fair,” Jim countered. “Does that also extend to me?”

 

        “Wh-what do you mean?” Oswald asked with wide eyes, his hands now rubbing his arms ceaselessly.

 

        “Well, I gave you Fish. You did promise a reward for the person to deliver her to you. Not my problem that you let her run.”

 

        “James Gordon, bounty hunting made you sassy,” Oswald laughed, and Jim could hear his teeth chattering.  He wished he could ignore it, but his hand had already started unzipping his leather jacket.

 

        “For god’s sake, you’re going to freeze to death! Put this on,” Jim growled as he handed Oswald his jacket.

 

        “What about you?”

 

        “I’ll survive.”

 

        Oswald looked at the jacket for a second before he shrugged it on. Naturally, it was a bit too big on him at the shoulders, and the sleeves were also too long. He zipped it, then hugged himself. He finally looked at Jim, and whispered: “Thank you, Jim.”

 

        Jim thought about how, when he set out on this walk, his aim was to clear his head, but now he was more confused than ever. Why did he find Oswald in his leather jacket an endearing image? And more importantly, why did he have the urge to kiss Oswald senseless?

 

        Just once, he’d do it just once. This was a surreal night, and everything that happened would stay enclosed in this bubble, with no consequences whatsoever to the future. Jim lifted up Oswald’s chin, and dove right in, kissing Oswald’s cold lips until they opened with a gasp. One of Oswald’s gloved hands was caressing the back of Jim’s head, the other following the curve of Jim’s back, then it stopped to grip Jim’s waist tightly. Jim let his tongue explore Oswald’s mouth, but knew he had to stop soon as the air in his lungs was completely gone.

 

        He broke the kiss with closed eyes, still holding onto Oswald’s shoulder whose panting was the only sound in the night.

 

        “I feel like I keep repeating myself, but you do keep surprising me.”

 

        “Your lips looked blue, I just wanted to make sure they weren’t frozen.”

 

        Jim could feel Oswald shaking with laughter. They looked at each other, then continued their walk through the dark streets.

 

        “You know, when Fish returns… it will be chaotic. I’ll need trustworthy men.”

 

        “Ah, so we’re back to business.”

 

        “Excuse me?!” Oswald spluttered, his eyes glinting. “I assure you, I am not using y-”

 

        “Relax, I know. I was just joking,” Jim added quickly, shaking his head. He should have known Cobblepot was volatile, especially after such an eventful night. Jim watched as Oswald, thinking he was inconspicuous, hunched his shoulders so that his nose was covered, and inhaled deeply.

 

        “I’ll help you catch her.”

 

        The words seemed to solidify in the darkness. Jim wondered if he and Oswald were only good at working together when there was some bloodshed involved as well. They finally arrived to an illuminated road. Oswald stopped, and motioned towards the end of the street where a black limousine was waiting: “Well, that’s my ride there.”

 

        Jim nodded, realising how exhausted he felt. He couldn’t wait to get home and crash in his bed. He almost flinched when there was a hand on his right upper arm, Oswald limping closer until all Jim could see were his green eyes.

 

        “I’ll send Butch over tomorrow with the money for Fish. There’s no one else I would rather give it to. If I may say so, I had hoped that you would take up the challenge.”

 

        Jim smiled; he should have known the bounty was a bait set up for him. But two could play this game. He leaned in so close, until his nose was brushing Oswald’s.

 

        “I don’t care about the money. But I want this jacket returned by morning.”

 

        Jim watched as the smile disappeared from Oswald’s face. It was difficult not to laugh at his pout, so with a last glance at Oswald’s lips, Jim turned left and hurried his steps.

 

        “You know, old friend, a million dollars could buy you a lot of leather jackets,” Oswald shouted after him.

 

        “Yes, but none of them would quite be like that _one_ , don’t you agree?”

 

        Jim turned back just in time to see Oswald put on his affronted expression and walk towards the limousine haughtily.


End file.
